


Strong Like Lace

by Lies_Unfurl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossdressing, Dean in Panties, Human Castiel in the Bunker, M/M, Panty Kink, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8955886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lies_Unfurl/pseuds/Lies_Unfurl
Summary: Castiel asks Dean if there's anything he'd like to try in bed. Dean takes a risk.





	

They’re lying in Dean’s bed when Castiel asks the question. His head rests on Dean’s chest, and Dean has his eyes closed as he plays with Castiel’s hair. Cas gets clingy after Dean’s fucked him. Something unexpected for Dean to learn. Endearing, though.

“Is there anything you’d like to do? With me?”

Dean opens his eyes. Cas gazes up at him, calm, mildly curious. “I mean. I’d like to get some sleep together. Maybe actually show you Star Wars tomorrow. Open gifts under the tree later this week. I’d say I’d want to take you somewhere, but I don’t really do vacation, and you’ve seen it all anyway.” 

“I’d like to do all those things too. Vacation included. But that’s not what I meant. I was referring to sex.”

_Oh_. “Uh. I mean. I dunno. _Anything_?”

Cas shrugs. Sort of. Half-lifts his shoulder without bothering to raise his chest from Dean’s. “I haven’t exactly had enough practice to have fetishes. You, on the other hand…”

“Don’t call them that. Um. Can I think about it?” Because there’s a lot going through his mind right now. A lot of situations. A lot of sensations. A whole lot of fantasies that he’s played out with women, and a few men, across the continental 48. 

But it was different then, when he knew he’d be skipping town within the week, when he didn’t care if his partner judged him. Everything is different with Cas, new and uncertain, and no matter how much he enjoys it, it also scares the hell out of him. Because he could ask for something Cas can’t give, or doesn’t want to give. And he’d rather keep things vanilla than jeopardize the best thing to come into his life lately.

“Of course. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I just know that humans have… preferences. And if there’s anything you want to do…”

Dean feels himself getting hard again. “Don’t say that. That’s a big-ass promise to keep.”

That earns him a sleepy half-smile. “I’m inexperienced. Not naïve.” He kisses the center of Dean’s sternum and nuzzles closer, as if that’s even possible. “And I’d never make offers I can’t keep.”

Yeah. He’s hard now. But he’s also tired, and Cas looks close to sleep himself. And what he wants… he doesn’t have it. Not now. Not for years.

But maybe soon. 

He kisses Cas’s hair. “Get some rest. I’ll think about it.”

And he does think about it, all night, while Cas drifts in and out of sleep on his chest. Remembers. Imagines.

*

The next day, he leaves Cas and Sam at the bunker and runs an errand by himself.

*

It’s another two days before Dean works up the courage. They’ve been settling a nearby case, and he’s still in his suit when he enters his -- _their_ — room, tentatively, after brushing his teeth. Cas lounges on the bed. It’s amazing how just seeing him resting so casually can do… things to Dean.

Cas glances at him. Sweeps his eyes up and down Dean’s body and smiles, very slightly. Before Dean can lose his nerve, he pulls Cas off the bed and kisses him hard, recklessly. Cas responds eagerly, and in a moment they’re scrambling to pull off each other’s ties, undo shirt buttons.

But it’s when his shirt is hanging off him that Dean slows. Hesitates. They’ve done this enough times to have a routine – and it’s not boring; he’s not complaining at all, it’s fucking _great_ \-- but he knows what’s coming. What Cas expects. The slow undressing, the slow sex, Dean on top and Cas moaning underneath him. 

It’s great. It’s also not what’s going to happen tonight.

Cas must notice that something has changed because he slows down too, running his hands up and down Dean’s sides. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing. He thinks he should ask. Say something. A word of warning? But he doesn’t know _how_ to say this, to vocalize the want inside of him. Even thinking about it makes him want to turn heel, head back to the bathroom, and fix himself up right.

So instead, he just covers Cas’s hand with his and carefully guides it down. They hold the gaze between them, Cas curious and a tad concerned, Dean…

He’s not really sure. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling, let alone what his eyes reveal.

Castiel’s fingertips slip beneath his waistband. He knows the exact moment Cas feels it. Reads the brief flash of confusion across his face before his eyes widen, understanding. 

Dean tries to swallow as Castiel runs his fingers over the lace, aware that his heart is pounding more from fear than arousal. He’s never mentioned this to Cas. Never even hinted at it. He doesn’t know how to talk about something he can barely admit to himself.

Cas smiles then, his eyes gentle. He leans forward and kisses Dean, slower, more careful than before. Then he drops to his knees and, in a swift motion, unbuckles Dean’s belt and pulls down his zipper. He tugs the black pants down just far enough to have a full view of the underwear Dean had bought the day before, cheeks red as he joked with the saleswoman about how he hoped his girlfriend appreciated the gift. They’re not showy. He likes elegance, not ostentatiousness. Dark gray silk with lace trim woven like roses around the edge. Low-hanging on his hips, but stretchy enough to cover his cock as it grows.

Castiel runs his fingers softly over the smooth surface. It’s everything he’s imagined and more. Dean leans back, moaning quietly as Cas’s hands reach the front, carefully trace the outline of his erection.

“You are,” Cas murmurs, reverence in his voice, “so lovely. Truly a thing of beauty.” 

And Dean would normally laugh his ass off at that, but there’s something in the tenderness of the words that makes his breath hitch. 

Cas pulls the silk down just enough to free Dean’s cock. He leans forward and kisses it, gently, carefully. He traces his tongue up and down its length and mouths at Dean’s balls, but makes no rush to swallow him down.

Which is fine. It’s not what Dean is hoping for anyway. He tries to say something, to vocalize his desires, but all that comes out is a weak and breathy, “Cas…”

It’s enough. His words rarely are, but tonight is nothing if not exceptional.

Cas stills and looks up at Dean, his eyes bright with lust. “Do you want me on top?”

Dean nods. Not enough language in the world to say everything he wants. Cas lets the panties snap back over him before standing and kissing him on the lips. The moment passes long and slow before he gently pushes Dean towards the bed. “On your knees, I think.”

He complies as Castiel grabs the lube, sinking down on all fours on the pliant memory foam mattress. Drops of precome soak through the gray, darkening the silk and the lace. He can’t believe this is really happening.

He feels Castiel climb into bed behind him. A moment later, Cas’s hand is squeezing his ass, before his fingers sneak below the fabric. Dean bites his lips and gasps. Mewls, really. It’s such a pathetic, unsexy word and such a goddamn desperate sound that he can’t believe it came from his own mouth, but the way that Cas moans means that he’s done something right, probably.

Castiel gently tugs the underwear down, enough so that his ass is exposed while his dick remains covered by the gentlest cloth he’s ever felt. The contrast between the bunker’s tepid air on his bare skin, the cool silk against his hot skin, it’s too much. He presses his forehead to the pillow, wanting to beg, not knowing what exactly he wants.

Cas knows, though. He always knows. Lubed fingers carefully push into his hole as Cas runs his free hand over the lace, over his hipbones. It’s so delicate, so sensitive he flinches, inadvertently driving Castiel deeper inside him. And that’s different too. It’s usually him penetrating, Castiel beneath him. Easier, somehow, for Cas to have the trust required to let another person in the deepest parts of him. Dean’s never been able to let his guard down so quickly. Maybe it’s not as hard for Castiel because he’s had to deal with the strangeness of being human. Maybe the vulnerability of losing his grace makes letting Dean enter him seem small in comparison.

He’s overthinking. A third finger drives away the distraction, grounds him in the moment. Castiel presses kisses along his spine, runs his free hand up and down his chest. His fingers dance over Dean’s nipples, squeeze them momentarily. Dean gasps. He’s worn panties like these before, once. Never tried anything else. For a moment he wonders what it would be like if he had bought a bra, too. Or a negligee, something gossamer-delicate and see-through. How good Cas’s fingers would feel running over that.

“Cas,” he gasps out. “Now. Please.”

Castiel withdraws his fingers. A moment later, Dean feels the press of his cock, before he slowly sinks in. It’s been so long. Why? God, he’s complete. Didn’t even realize that something was missing until now, with Cas’s slow thrusts opening him up, filling him. 

He’s conscious too of the way his dick is straining against the underwear. He circles his hips as Cas thrusts in and out, rubbing himself against the silk. 

Cas notices, because of course he does. He keeps one hand on Dean’s shoulder, steadying himself as he fucks Dean. He reaches down with the other, and Dean cries out when he feels the sudden pressure. Cas strokes him through the fabric, soft at first and then harder, faster, hand moving in time with his cock.

Dean doesn’t think he can possibly get any more turned on. Then Cas gently squeezes his balls through the silk, and the various sensations – of Cas inside of him, of his thumb circling his balls, of the silk still soft against his straining cock – they’re all too much for him. By the time Castiel’s hands move lower, stroking his perineum, he’s already coming. Castiel finishes a few moments later, murmuring Dean’s name like a litany and clutching the spot on Dean’s shoulder where his scar once resided.

When they’re both sated, breaths slowing, Castiel’s chest pressed over Dean’s back, Dean’s first reaction is to be worried about the underwear. He hopes he didn’t stain them. And that he can wash them without Sam noticing.

Then Castiel sighs and gently pulls out of him, and he’s brought back to the moment. Cas draws himself up to the pillow, then tugs Dean down and into his arms. One hand slips down to rest between the band of the underwear and his hip. Dean thinks he understands why Cas gets so clingy after sex now.

“Was that good?” Cas asks. His voice is muffled, breath tickling the hair on the back of Dean’s head.

Dean nods, already feeling sleepy. “Very.”

“Good.” Cas kisses the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I enjoyed it too. I’d be happy to do it again. And if there’s anything else you want… the offer remains open.”

“Thanks,” Dean murmurs. His hand covers Castiel’s, squeezing it, the silk a thin barrier between them. “I’ll keep that in mind, Cas.”

And he falls asleep, feeling satisfied, feeling safe, already thinking of the things to come.


End file.
